On 5th January we left St Barths and sailed south to St Kitts. There was only one other yacht within site, and inspired by the beach nudity he had just seen, Jon decided to try and get an all over tan. Both Jethro and I used a lot of sunscreen but Jon said he would not bother. Later that evening he regretted that decision and would never shed his shorts again! St Kitts had no coves or harbours so we anchored off the capital of Basseterre. As it was an extremely rolly anchorage we did not sleep well.
Clearing in and Out – different rules
Not having been ashore we did not think we had to clear in. However, whilst we were hoisting sail the next morning a customs launch zoomed alongside and demanded to see passports and ships papers and accompany them ashore. The procedure was different in every island. In St Bart’s we cleared in and out on one piece of paper. It was free of charge, very friendly and efficient. Here in St Kitts there were six forms to complete. Many stamps were flourished on our papers and passports and we had to wait over an hour in a dirty unfriendly atmosphere over the main post office. Then they demanded fees.
Ashore in Basseterre we turned some US dollars into Eastern Caribbean dollars at a rate of about five EC to one US. Soon after midday we raised anchor and motor-sailed upwind to reach Charlestown in Nevis before dark which at least charged the batteries.
Rolly anchorages
After yet another extremely rolly night at anchor we came to the conclusion we should start putting out a stern anchor in such conditions. This would entail settling to the main anchor, then putting the second Danforth anchor in the dinghy. By towing the stern round and dropping the second anchor correctly, with the bow into the swell, it was possible to have the boat pitching instead of rolling which would be much more tolerable.
We went ashore again next morning to look for bread and milk. Once again it was startling to see the contrast between islands. These two shared administration, but Nevis seemed very poor in comparison to its sister island. The scenery of Nevis was much prettier but Charlestown itself seemed desperately run down, perhaps the legacy of a recent hurricane or earthquake.
There was indeed one dubious bread shop but only one tiny grocery shop with lots of rusty tin cans of food and broken boxes of stuff crawling with ants and cockroaches. In spite of that the people were very friendly and polite, which was a welcome change. We did not buy any groceries. I had tins of evaporated milk on board and savoury biscuits we could use instead.
Nelson’s marriage to Fanny Nesbitt
I had read about Horatio Nelson marrying a Nevis girl at a church called St John Figtree about 2 miles outside Charlestown. A taxi driver agreed to take us there, and then on to the Montpellier Sugar Estate which was by then an hotel. Fanny Nisbet was a young widow who lived in that house with her 5 year old son and her uncle when she fell in love with Nelson. He was then commander of the naval frigate ‘Boreas’.
We taxied through lush rolling hillsides peppered with neat well-maintained wooden houses all with huge vegetable and fruit gardens. There were paved roads and lots of English looking churches and derelict windmills. Inside the charming Figtree church the sexton showed us the marriage register dated 11th March 1787 with Nelson’s signature and the Duke of Clarence as witness. That was the same man who went on to become King George IV – Queen Victoria’s predecessor.
The Montpellier plantation house gave us a glimpse of how the other half lived over two hundred years ago. Once a rich sugar plantation owner’s home, this stunning Georgian Mansion on a cliff top overlooking the Caribbean Sea had extensive formal gardens and large elegant rooms with verandahs all round. Antique mahogany furniture graced the ground floor rooms. The hotel guests that day were nearly all frightfully plummy British gentry all strolling about in their baggy shorts and floppy hats, yah yahing over their pre lunch cocktails. Dozens of locals were in servile roles.
We treated our taxi driver to lunch and a glass of planters punch. He was the only black guest there. On the way back to Charlestown he stopped at his own house and gave us a huge hand of green bananas and some golden apples from his garden. These apples were like avocados. What a very special day out that had been. We hung the bananas from the back stay and picked them off over the next week or two as they ripened.
Nelsons Dockyard, English Harbour – Antigua
It was a sixty mile trip across to Antigua , almost due east so wind on the nose. There was not enough daylight left to go down to the southern tip so we overnighted in Five Island Harbour which was so calm we could sleep soundly. The following day we completed the journey and cleared in at Freeman Bay at the mouth of English Harbour. The procedure here was different again. We dropped anchor and hoisted the yellow Q flag from the shrouds to wait for customs and immigration officers to come on board.
“Any firearms, drugs, crates of booze on board?” We were asked.
“No Sir.”
Passports stamped again, we were allowed to stay in Antigua and Barbuda up to three weeks.
Nelson’s Dockyard was fascinating. Abandoned by the British Navy in 1899 the whole area fell into disrepair and began to crumble away and be overtaken by tropical growth. Then in the 1950s the Governor of the Leeward Islands noticed a grand sailing schooner alongside the wharf which was the first charter yacht in the Caribbean. He formed a group called ‘Friends of English Harbour’ to restore all the buildings. It would become a base for sailing yachts instead of Royal Navy vessels. Antigua was due to gain independence from Britain in 1981 so it would be interesting to see how developments went from there.
When we went to explore the dockyard after settling the anchor Jon wanted to see the old sail loft first of all. It used to be a massive building supported by huge brick columns with a wet dock underneath. The main building had been destroyed by hurricanes but the huge pillars remained. Many of the other buildings had been restored, including a museum and two hotels made from the old service buildings. There were three enormous capstans. It was like a tropical version of Portsmouth.
The harbour itself was virtually landlocked and therefore easy to imagine how secure it would have been considered as a haven for naval sailing vessels, especially in times of war. Full refitting facilities had been created using slave labour from various sugar and coconut plantations.
Jon’s parents were due to arrive a few days later. Jethro keep asking for the same bedtime story “out if your mouth, Mummy” rather than a story book. This was easily done whilst I was pottering about in the galley and he never tired of it. This is how it started :
Grandma and Grandpa Alsop visit
“Grandma and Grandpa woke up in Norfolk and had breakfast in their kitchen. After clearing up they packed their luggage into Grandpa’s navy blue Rover. They drove down to Heathrow in the snow and parked the car. Then they climbed into a Jumbo Jet and fastened their seat belts. “
If I missed any of these steps out he would correct me, especially the “in the snow… “
“Once the plane has taken off, Grandma and Grandpa have a meal on the folding tray, eating with tiny little British Airways knives and forks. Next it is time for a snooze and then they must fasten their seatbelts ready for landing. Down the steps they come into the sunshine, go through Immigration and collect their luggage from the carousel. And when they come through the doors, who will be waiting for them?”
Now it was his turn, “Sheffro and Daddy and Mummy!”
And that is what happened. We collected Molly and Fads from Antigua airport on 25th January and took them back to English Harbour by taxi, installing them in the aft cabin. Jon and I moved into the saloon for the next four weeks.